Chapter Fifty: The Alliance (IV)

Cloud City, within the command compound of the Eagle Strike General.

Liu Wuzhou was not seated idly inside his chamber; instead, he wore an outer robe and paced back and forth in the courtyard.

Cloud City itself lay on the desolate edge of the frontier, its climate bitterly cold, and the general’s courtyard had nothing of distinction in its furnishings. Since Liu Wuzhou took charge, he had turned the grounds into a drill yard for hardening the body and honing martial skills. Now it was so bare as to be almost unsightly.

Yet Liu Wuzhou continued his endless circling within this bleak courtyard.

Suddenly, he looked up—it was Yuan Junzhang, returning hastily.

Yuan Junzhang strode before Liu Wuzhou, whose face was clouded with displeasure, and saluted with clasped hands. “Eagle Strike, all is arranged. Everyone has been withdrawn and is now holding strictly to the city and the various outposts along the low hills. Even if that thousand-strong Yue division stirs up a storm, we’ll not interfere.”

Liu Wuzhou gave a cold snort. “Yuchi Gong has already come to see me, complaining at length. Says that as today’s city patrol commander, all matters have been arranged around him, leaving him nothing to do. Might as well relieve him of duty altogether for these days.”

Yuan Junzhang also snorted icily. “That brute—does he fancy himself some remarkable figure? All he knows is to fight and swagger, then collect his pay and feast each day without fail. Does he know how hard it is for Eagle Strike to hold these Heng’an troops together? Does he grasp how many wrenching choices we have to make?”

Liu Wuzhou silently patted Yuan Junzhang on the shoulder. “Keeping this Heng’an force together—your efforts have been just as vital. I remember them all.”

Yuan Junzhang’s expression did not change, but he bowed his head slightly—a rare gesture of gratitude for one so proud.

Liu Wuzhou hesitated, then finally asked, “Today, at the thousand-strong Yue division, with the Nine Clans Alliance—will something really happen?”

Yuan Junzhang smiled faintly and leaned closer, about to whisper something in Liu Wuzhou’s ear. But Liu Wuzhou abruptly waved him off, stepping several paces back. “Don’t tell me—don’t tell me. I don’t want to know anything!”

With those words, Liu Wuzhou strode quickly away, as if fearing to hear something from Yuan Junzhang that he could never accept.

Yuan Junzhang stood in the drill yard, glancing around. The old soldiers of the command kept their distance, none daring to look their way.

Liu Wuzhou led with kindness and was approachable, but his discipline remained strict. When he and Yuan Junzhang discussed urgent matters, no one dared come close to eavesdrop.

Watching Liu Wuzhou’s retreating figure, a trace of a cold smile curled at the corner of Yuan Junzhang’s mouth.

This Eagle Strike—facing such peril, he still cared for his reputation as the stalwart who stood against the Turks, the nation’s flying general of Dragon City! In such chaotic times, only survival mattered; only by growing stronger could one seize the chance to vie for supremacy in the future! So what if he temporarily submitted to the Turks? When the time came to soar like a dragon, he could challenge them again!

They were men of humble birth, who had toiled their way up to such heights, forever straining under the vast shadow of the great clans. The hardship was beyond words. In this Sui dynasty, the aristocracy stood aloof, while men of humble origins barely advanced an inch. It was these very families that had brought the empire to ruin. Yet in these troubled times lay the rare chance for men like them! If only he could supplant those nobles, Yuan Junzhang would stop at nothing.

Arranging for the Turks to infiltrate and disrupt the Nine Clans Alliance had cost Yuan Junzhang untold effort and risk, just to establish contact with those Turkic nobles. If Liu Wuzhou shrank from soiling his own hands, then let Yuan Junzhang do the dirty work!

All that mattered was preserving the foundation Liu Wuzhou had fought so hard to build, to support his rise—if only to repay the debt Yuan Junzhang owed from the old campaign against Goguryeo.

With a sweep of his sleeve, Yuan Junzhang turned and strode away, resolute.

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At Luo Dun’s single remark, the dozens of horsemen who had come to greet him immediately reined in their mounts, exchanging uneasy glances.

Bu Li had already drawn her two daggers, while Lie Lie stepped forward to shield Luo Dun. The elite warriors of the Lianghait tribe, surrounding them, all gripped the straight sabers issued to Sui soldiers at their waists.

Lie Lie shouted, “If we don’t see the old chief, we guard our own and turn back now!”

The nobleman who had come to receive them looked troubled, leaving only a terse, “Please, Chief, wait here a moment!” before hurrying away with several riders.

Lie Lie sidled up to Luo Dun and muttered, “That Lord Le’s worries seem well-founded—something’s off here. Let’s get the chief out of here.”

Bu Li shot Lie Lie a fierce glare as he drew close, but having become acquainted over time, she refrained from slashing at his throat. This slender, long-haired girl now wore a look of acute anxiety, gripping her daggers tightly, eyes darting about in agitation.

Luo Dun surveyed his surroundings—the flat expanse of the Yunzhong basin, with the low-hill fortifications of Heng’an’s Eagle Command not far behind. Around him stood dozens of hardened fighters, armored and armed, while he himself wore a fine lamellar cuirass from the Sui army.

His mount was strong and swift; if danger arose, they could wheel about and retreat at once. Could any foe possibly pursue them all the way to Cloud City’s gates?

Perhaps it was Xu Le’s anxious demeanor that had set Lie Lie’s nerves on edge.

Luo Dun smiled and waved to reassure his followers. “What’s the hurry to leave now? Let’s wait a bit. If we don’t see the old chief, it won’t be too late to go then.”

The short wait seemed interminable, especially with Bu Li’s mounting unease, until the restless shifting of their horses betrayed the tension. Suddenly, a cloud of dust appeared—over a dozen riders approached.

At the head rode a man who appeared even older than Luo Dun, his hair and beard completely white. Wrapped in a precious fur robe, his figure was shrunken and frail, and he needed someone to lead his horse and support him.

This was none other than Luo Dun’s old friend—the venerable Chief Gaida Wutou of the Yue division. In his prime, he had led the thousand-strong Yue across the Yin Mountains, carving out vast pastures, annexing weaker tribes, and once harbored ambitions of dominating the steppe before the Rouran fell and the Turks rose.

Luo Dun had followed him through blood and storm in those years.

But decades had passed; Wutou’s hair was now snow-white, and Luo Dun himself kept to his home, caring only for food and medicine. The Nine Clans survived now only by huddling together in the vast shadow of the Turks, and the mighty Sui Empire to the south was at its end.

The times had changed; the years had flown.

The two old friends, long separated, gazed at each other across the distance. Gaida Wutou mustered a smile and called out, “Luo Dun, am I not allowed a little laziness, waiting for you here? Must you force me to come out? One question—are you coming to the Nine Clans Alliance or not? If not, then let us two old men never meet again!”

Luo Dun laughed heartily. “How could I not come? Unless there’s no good wine or roast lamb tonight, I’m not leaving!”